Book Store-ies 01

The characters, situations and actions in this story are merely figments of an unusual imagination. So unusual, in fact, that the author doesn't actually exist.

NC<18 – No characters under the age of 18 are depicted in this story.

This is a copyrighted original work of erotic fiction. All rights reserved.

"So do you actually kill zombies with that button?" I asked the cashier. "Or just wear it when you're killing them?"

I had stopped off in the local bookstore to see if anything new was out and while in the store I had seen a display of "zombie" signs and gotten a kick out of most of them.

As I neared the counter, the cashier asked if she could help me. I walked up to the counter, glanced at the nametag on the top of her apron as I did, and said, "Sure..." and called her by name. That kind of took her aback until it occurred to her she was wearing the nametag and she looked down at it, then at me and flashed a little "duh" grin.

She was around five and a half feet tall, had short reddish-brown hair framing her face like curtains. Cute and healthy in that country girl way with what looked to be a decent figure – as far as I could tell behind the counter and the apron.

As I was trying to check out her tits behind the apron I noticed the "This is my zombie killing button" on the other side of the apron and that prompted the question.

She said if she had to, she was pretty sure she COULD kill a zombie with the button.

I glanced over at the display of signs and said, "Yeah, it's good to be prepared, 'cuz ya just never know."

She had been ringing up the transaction as we spoke and she told me how much I owed. I gave her both bills and coins and she closed out the purchase.

She said, "I know. I just bought a small horse farm a ways out from town, so I should be safe out there."

She gave me my change and I realized she hadn't added the coins when she rang it up and still owed me another dollar, so I pointed it out.

She had to call the manager, so we stood for a few minutes while she apologized for the error.

The manager (a woman about my age) walked behind the counter, did her thing with the register, handed the cashier a portion of a receipt after it printed, told her to sign it when she had the chance and to go ahead and give me my additional change.

As the manager turned to leave, she paused, made eye contact with at me and asked, "Should I take her out back and have her flogged?" The cashier twitched as if she had gotten a static shock.

My first thought was Wow! Maybe you need to spend a little less time browsing THAT particular section of books. I smiled and said, "Nah, that's OK. Anybody can make a mistake." As I turned to leave, I saw the cashier's shoulders slump, but it occurred to me that that looked more like disappointment than relief, so I turned back.

"But then again...," I said to the manager before she could turn completely away, "While it's true that anybody can make a mistake, I think sometimes people are quick to complain about the negatives and too slow to praise the positives. I think this young lady deserves a reward for her service."

I continued, "So if I HAD agreed to have her flogged, would you have actually taken her 'out back' or just taken her to the back of the store?"

The cashier dropped her head a little and her hair swung forward to partially hide her face.

The manager looked in my eyes as if searching for something then said, "Well, I'm not really sure. No one's ever taken me up on that offer before. What do you think?"

I paused for a minute while watching the cashier, then said, "Well, she definitely deserves a reward for her 'great' service. But I don't think she gave 'outstanding' service. So I don't think she deserves the added humiliation of being flogged 'out back', where anyone could just happen by and see her bare ass being flogged right out there in public in broad daylight."

The girl dropped her head a little lower and I caught a glimpse of a flush coming over her neck and cheeks.

"And, while she deserves a reward, it occurs to me that you shouldn't have to pull another employee off the sales floor or abandon your job yourself. Want me to take her in back and take care of that for you?" Aha! Even though her head was down, I was able to catch just the barest glimpse of a smile from the girl.

The manager smiled at me, then looked at the girl and said, "Well, she IS one of my better employees, and I've gotten some good feedback from other customers, too. So, yeah, if you're willing to, go ahead."

I looked across at the girl and asked, "Have you been a good girl?"

She nodded slightly.

"Well then, since you've been a good girl and deserve a reward, why don't you take your name tag and that 'zombie killing' button off and leave them out here. Since I believe you ARE capable of killing a zombie with the one, I'm pretty sure you'd be able to do the same or worse with the other. I'd rather not find out if I'm right if you change your mind."

I turned back to the manager as the girl removed both buttons and set them on the counter with trembling hands.

"Would you happen to have a flogger in the back?" I asked.

She shook her head with a rueful smile. "Like I said," she said, "No one's ever taken me up on that offer before, so, sadly, no."

"No problem, I'm sure we'll make do," I said, then turned back to the girl and said, "Step to the end of the counter, stop, then turn around and put your hands behind your back." I watched as she did and got confirmation of what I had suspected. When she had put her hands behind her back she had crossed her arms at the wrists with her hands slightly open. I let my voice drop in pitch and volume as I stepped quietly up behind her, "Oooh, you ARE a good girl."

I leaned even closer in and rumbled, "You'll have to lead the way since I don't know where we're going. But take your time. I want you to think about what's going to happen when we get there."

As she walked away, I noticed her hair was actually brown with red streaks in it and, while she had the shorter part framing her face, she had the rest pulled back in a pony-tail that fell about half-way down her back. I watched the sway of her knee-length denim skirt and considered what might be going on under there. I also noticed the cowboy boots she was wearing. Only somebody really into horses would wear cowboy boots at a job in a bookstore that had her on her feet all shift, I thought.

She led me to a door marked "Employees Only", opened it and stepped inside. I stepped in myself and took a quick look around. There wasn't much back there, just a table and a few chairs. When I saw the table and where it was located, it gave me a really interesting idea.

"Step around behind the table and face me."

Once she was there I said, "Center yourself on the table but stay a few inches away from it."

"Take your apron off, fold it up and place on the edge of the table." She did as she was told.

"Place your hands on the table, palms down."

"Slide your hands forward until your forearms are flat on the table."

I stepped to the end of the table, leaned down so my own forearms were on it and got close up to her ear. I let my voice rumble a little as I asked, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She nodded.

"You realize if that door opens, there's a very good chance that someone might see you like this?"

She shivered and nodded.

"And you're sure you still want to continue?"

She nodded.

"Do you know what a 'safe word' is?"

She nodded.

"Do you have one?"

She shook her head slowly.

"No matter. You won't be needing one anyway."

She stayed there, perfectly still. Well, still, except for the way she was breathing - that strange combination of long, slow, deep breaths that still made it seem like she was panting with excitement. I could see her whole body trembling now. Excitement? Anxiety? Desire? Fear?

"Would it be easier if you close your eyes?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Tough," I said. "You need to keep your eyes open and on that door, thinking about who might be there if it opens and what they might see."

I stepped around behind her, reached out and slowly placed my hand on the small of her back. She twitched a little then arched her back up against my hand.

I eased to her left side facing away from the door, barely made contact between my left hip and her left butt cheek and she pushed back to rub against me. "Whoa. Easy there, girl." I said.

I put my left hand on her butt cheek and she twitched again. I slowly slid my hand down her butt cheek, then down her thigh, across the sensitive skin on the back of her knee and to the inside of her calf. "Lift." I said as I pulled a little. She bent her leg at the knee and I slipped the boot off her foot.

I moved to the other side and slowly repeated the actions. The little minx tried to rub up against me again. That got her a "No!" and a small swat on the ass.

"Let's see what we have here," I said as I grabbed a chair by the back and placed it behind her. I sat down behind her and leaned forward a little.

"Should we do this through that skirt?" I wondered aloud. "Or through your panties? Or maybe just skin to skin?" She moaned and wiggled her hips a little at that last.

"I think we'll go bareback," I said. "Spread your legs about shoulder-width apart." When she did, I reached down with both hands, grabbed the bottom hem of her skirt and slowly slid the hem up the backs of first her thighs and then her ass, turning the skirt inside-out as I did. As I continued to pull it up, I exposed a pair of pink "boy-short" underwear.

Even if I hadn't been able to smell her arousal before, the scent, as it was released from the confines of her skirt, filled the room.

"Put your legs together," I said. She did and I waited a while, not moving at all. I waited until she started to look around to see what I was doing.

"Noooo," I said as I swatted her panty-clad ass. "You're supposed to be watching that door, aren't you?"

She nodded.

"OK, then." I reached out and put my hands on her hips, my palms covering the waistband of the shorts. I could feel her trembling. I hooked my thumbs and forefingers inside the waistband on either side and slowly pulled them down, again putting pressure on her ass and the backs of her thighs with the waistband as I did.

When I got them down to her ankles, I tapped her right ankle and said, "Lift." She did and I slid the fabric over her foot. As it cleared her foot, I grabbed her ankle and pushed her foot back to the ground. I tapped her left ankle and again said, "Lift." She did and I finished removing her underwear, then pushed that foot to the ground as well.

"Spread those legs again," I said. Nice legs, I thought. Well-toned. Like a dancer or a long-time horsewoman.

"You know, as pretty as a girl's legs are in boots, they always look just a little bit better with bare feet," I said.

As I looked at her tight little ass, it occurred to me that the phrase "apple-cheeked lass" was going to have an entirely new meaning in a few minutes.

I reached out with my right hand and slid it past her ass-cheek, not actually touching, but a bare millimeter away. She knew it was there but it wasn't making contact. As she slowly began to push her ass back, trying to make contact with my hand, I pulled it back, maintaining the separation. When she had pushed her ass back to the point that her elbows were about to come off the table I quickly pulled my hand back then slapped it onto her naked ass. It wasn't all that hard a slap, but between the things I had done to make her more sensitive and the anticipation, she drove her hips into the edge of the table. Good thing that apron was there or she'd have bruised for sure.

I reached out with my left hand and did the same thing to her other ass-cheek. From where I was sitting behind her, I could see her pussy lips slowly start to spread apart, and the aroma got stronger.

I began to slowly spank her, spreading the location all around her sweet cheeks. As I did she began to rock her hips from side to side, slightly flexing her knees as she did.

I maintained a steady rhythm, matching hers, only varying the location of the impacts. I could tell that she was getting some friction between her lips as she was beginning to moan fairly often and I could see a drop slowly forming on her exposed pussy.

Now obviously her ass hadn't started out yellow or green like an unripe apple, but its paleness did gradually began to redden like an apple ripening until it took on that deep pretty red of a ripe Jonathan apple.

I watched as she slowly sped up her rhythm and adjusted mine to match it.

I could tell she was getting close to cumming when I heard a knock on the door. The girl groaned.

"Stay!" I growled as I got up, walked over to the door and eased it open a bit to see who it was.

The manager smiled at me apologetically and I thought she was going to tell me she had changed her mind and we needed to stop 'cuz the girl needed to get back to work or something. Damn!

"I said we didn't have a flogger," she said as she smiled, "and I didn't lie. We don't. But I just sent one of the other girls to the craft store across the street and she brought back a few things you might be able to use. How're things going?" and she handed me a bag.

I glanced past her to make sure no one else was in the area or looking that way, glanced back to make sure the girl still had her eyes on the door, and opened the door all the way, saying, "See for yourself." I heard a sharp intake of breath, then a long drawn-out moan. From both of them.

"I'll leave you to it, then," the manager said as she smiled with a twinkle in her eye and walked away. I left the door open a few seconds more before letting it slowly close.

I walked over to the table, pulled up another chair on the front side, sat down and slowly dumped the bag on the table. "Let's see what we have here," I said, mostly to myself. I glanced up at the girl and her eyes were wide.

"Wow! I wonder what the clerk at the craft shop thought when whoever it was picked up this bundle of stuff?" I wondered out loud. "This bundle" must have been every bit of leather lacing, strips and straps they had in stock.

I separated it into piles in front of her, watching her nostrils flare as she inhaled deeply, smelling the leather, and moaned deeply. It's funny, I thought, when most animals' eyes go that wide and roll like that, it means they're scared. When a woman's do it, it usually means they're really fucking horny.

"Let's see. These laces are a little thin – think we might have to double those up so we don't open you up. And here are some half-inch wide strips, says they're three feet long. And here's some inch-and-a-half wide straps. Forty-two inches! You'll really enjoy those."

I took everything off the packaging and laid the strips and straps across her wrists. She shivered.

Picking up the laces, I made two bundles about twenty inches long then moved around and sat back in the chair behind her. Taking one in each hand, I began to spin them horizontally in opposite directions. The girl tensed up a bit as she heard them start to hum through the air. I tried bringing them both down on her ass cheeks at the same time, but they tangled, so I slowed them down and began bringing them down on her cheeks, alternating the blows. She started rocking side to side again to meet the laces as they fell.

Sliding the chair back with the backs of my knees, I stood and slowly twisted my wrists so the laces went from striking her on the sides of her cheeks, down and around to where they were striking her cheeks from below – just where her ass met her thighs.

I occasionally allowed the edges of the looped laces to graze her cunt lips and she groaned and pushed her ass farther out and spread her feet even farther, opening her crotch to me.

Knowing the looped laces wouldn't cut her delicate flesh I knelt down and began to bring them straight up into her exposed pussy and asshole.

She groaned and stopped rocking, just letting the laces strike her exposed lips and clit.

I glanced up between her legs and realized that in pushing her ass back toward me, she had made it so she could look over the edge of the table and could see the laces slap into her swollen wet pussy.

"Are you close to cumming?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Then here's what I want you to do," I said. "I want you to stop watching me spank your puss with these and look up at the door."

She did.

"Then I want you to imagine how it would feel it that door was propped part way open. People would be walking around the store. Some of them might glance in here and see what was going on."

She groaned.

"Some would look away. But sooner or later one of them is going to look in as they walk past, and you'll think you're safe again. But then they'll come back, stop and stare. It could be a man or a woman. They'll be standing there, watching you getting your pussy stroked with these leather straps. Then someone else will notice them looking in the door and come to see what they're looking at."

I stood up, easing to her left side, and switched to using one set of the looped straps only. I doubled the rhythm so it seemed like she was still getting stroked with two straps. I put my left hand on the small of her back and pushed down.

"Eventually you'll draw a crowd. Including some of your co-workers." She groaned.

I slowly began to pick up the speed of the straps without increasing the force.

"They'll all be standing there in that open door, watching you get your cunt stroked with leather, watching you twitch every time it hits your little clit, watching as your eyes slowly come unfocused."

"Watching as your stomach begins to tighten." She began to hunch her back as her orgasm approached and then her head dipped down again.

"Watching as you slowly rise up on your toes..."

I reached out with my left hand and slowly gathered her pony-tail around my palm, then reached out with my right toe and hooked the leg of the chair. I put some pressure on the stretcher between the legs and pushed it across the floor.

The noise it made didn't even come close to the squeak of the door hinges. But between me stage-whispering, "Crap, who's coming in here?" and me pulling her head back up quickly and firmly by the pony-tail, and it was enough.

She groaned loudly, rose even further up on her toes, then curled them under her feet as her she came, her knees flexing as she did.

She collapsed forward onto the table.

As she lay there, gasping for breath, and shivering with aftershocks, I gathered the various laces and straps into piles, not sure how she was going to react when she finally came back to her senses.

I happened to be turned partly away from her when she did and had enough time to think, OH SHIT!!, as I caught sight of her flying around the table and toward me.

But she wasn't attacking me.

Actually, she WAS attacking me, just not THAT way.

She jumped in the air just before she reached me, threw her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist as she started to kiss me passionately. And no, I don't know how she managed to wrap her legs around me with a knee-length skirt on, but she sure knew how to, and she did.

In between kisses, she managed to say, "You (kiss) are coming (kiss) out (kiss) to the (kiss) farm (kiss) with me (kiss) right (kiss) FUCKING (kiss) NOW (kiss) Mister!"

She climbed down off me, slammed her feet into her boots, hooked her panties with the toe of one, flicked them up into the air, smiled as she caught them and shoved them as well as all the leather straps and laces into the bag.